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Updated: June 20, 2025
We shouted till our chests felt scraped raw, the way you feel when you've run too hard, and the wind tore our voices straight out to sea, away from Wecanicut. The lanterns stood quite still for a minute more, and then they bobbed away. At first I didn't believe that they were really growing smaller and smaller. But they were, and at last they were gone entirely, far down the shore.
"If we just write to him ourselves, in our own form, I mean," Jerry said, "it'll be stupid. And I don't feel maroonish here on the porch. We'll have to wait till we go to Wecanicut again, and write from there." I felt somehow the way Jerry did, so we put away the things again and went out under the hemlock tree to talk about the Castaway.
"Don't get streelin' off too far," Katy said, "Where are ye goin'?" "Oh, down by the shore," I said, which was not quite the whole truth, because of course it was not our shore, but the shore of Wecanicut I meant. Yes, all of it was my fault. Just as we were putting the lunch into the kit-bag Greg came staggering downstairs, trailing along the weirdest lot of stuff he'd collected.
He let each of us steer her and told us a great many names of things on her, which I forgot immediately. Jerry always remembers things like that and can talk about reef-cringles and topping-lift as if he really knew what they were for. We went quite far out and saw the Sea Monster from a different side in the distance, and tacked down to the other end of Wecanicut under the Fort guns.
Don't you remember the rocks at Wecanicut, with bushels of wet sea-weed hanging off?" "Well?" Jerry said. I didn't understand for a minute, then I whispered: "Do you mean " "A wave just hit my foot," said Jerry in a low voice. The first thing that we did was a lot of quick figuring.
And Father sat with his head tucked down over the 'cello, just the way I remembered there on the Sea Monster, and the candles shone on Aunt Ailsa's amberish-colored hair, and I thought she was the beautifullest person in the world, except Mother. I thought about a lot of things while the music went on, and wondered whether we'd ever want to picnic on Wecanicut again.
Beach-peas, barnacles, and eiligugs' eggs, of which only a small supply is to be had on this bleak and dismal coast. Our ship, the good ferry-boat Wecanicut, left us marooned, and there is no hope of our being picked up for the next two hours. Signed: " "Don't sign it 'Christine'," Jerry said. "Put 'Chris, if we're to be real mariners."
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